


He's Falling, Doesn't Even Know it Yet

by YinAndYangOnIce



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Louis's in jail and Harry's on crutches, M/M, Non-Famous AU, bonus mummy Jay, post-Night Changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:56:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinAndYangOnIce/pseuds/YinAndYangOnIce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>basically what happens after the Night Changes video, Harry is on crutches, Louis is in jail, and they're just starting to figure it all out</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Falling, Doesn't Even Know it Yet

It was a few hours before they let Harry leave the hospital. He assured them that he was fine over and over (besides, of course, his broken arm, sprained ankle, and bruised ego,) but they insisted he stay so they could check him out. They thought that since he’d taken an elbow to the forehead he may have a severe concussion or something but his mother had always told him that he had a thick skull and at least that pulled through for him. 

They still made him get wheeled outside in a wheelchair, as was hospital policy, but it was made at least a little better because Jay had volunteered to push him out.  
 “You know, if I didn’t know me own son so well, I would be surprised that you’re the one who keeps the flat from burning down,” Jay teased and Harry smiled despite himself. As soon as they were outside, Jay moved around the side of the chair, helped him up, and got him steady on his crutch.  
 “I’m really sorry for all the trouble, Jay,” he said. “Pulling you away from the ward and all that.” Jay, of course, just rolled her eyes.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna leave practically me own flesh and blood in the hands of some stranger, was I?” she said and the words brought Harry’s blood to a pleasant boil. “You’re just lucky nobody needed a midwife the same time you decided you wanted to be Kristi Yamaguchi.”

“Oh, please, if anything, I would be Johnny Weir,” Harry said and Jay snorted, just as her phone rang. She dug it out of the pocket of her scrubs and checked the caller ID. She made a confused face before answering it.

“Hello, Jay Deakin speaking,” she said and at the answering voice, her eyebrows raised. “Hello, Louis.” She turned to Harry, winking at him at the mention of her son’s name and he smirked. “Is something wrong, love? Any reason you’re not calling me from your cell phone?”

He lingered at Jay’s side as she listened to her son talk and she didn’t seem to mind, probably operating under the (correct) assumption that whatever she heard Harry was only going to hear later. However, he was confused and nervous when Jay’s brow suddenly furrowed and when she spoke again, it was an octave higher than before.

“You’re where?!” she screeched shrilly. “Louis, this had better be some sort of sick joke.”

Harry waited, heart pounding, as Jay’s face flushed in what he only knew from experience was anger mixed with concern (which he’d seen many times during his childhood that he spent with Louis as his best friend, like that time Louis thought it would be fun to have a “Who can climb higher in this tree and then jump off?” contest, an incident which had ended with both of them taking a similar wheelchair ride down this hall.)

“You- You. I-“ Jay was stuttering, practically purple in the face and unable to form a full sentence. “You’re- Do not tell me to calm down, Louis Tomlinson!”

From wherever he was, Harry could hear Louis on the other end of the phone mutter a feeble “Yes, ma’am” and he couldn’t help but smile to himself, if only on the inside.

“Yeah, I’ll come get you and when I do, you’ll wish you were spending the night in that cell!” Jay crowed and Harry felt his heart speed up again. Cell? When he looked up, Jay was listening again. 

“I cannot believe that’s what you’re worrying about right now,” she berated him, but Louis seemed insistent on something because soon Jay’s face dropped from angry to just tired. “All right, all right, I won’t. I’ll see you soon.” A pause as she listened. “Yeah, I love you, too.”  
 She ended the call, bringing one hand up to her forehead and the other letting the phone slide back into her pocket before joining the other. Harry waited for a few seconds, trying to figure out if she might snap and kill him if he tried to say anything (he’d seen her like this before and it wasn’t pretty.)

“Jay?” he said cautiously, leaning down to try and catch her eyes. “Everything okay? What’s wrong with Louis?”

After a second, Jay took a deep, heaving breath, and then sighed. “What’s bloody fuckin’ wrong is that I must’ve dropped him on his head as a child,” she said, letting her hands drop to her sides, accent thicker with how exhausted she suddenly was. “Me idiot son has managed to get himself arrested.”

“Arrested?!” Harry cried, with such force that he nearly lost his balance on his crutch and Jay needed to dive forward to steady him. “For what?”

“Apparently,” Jay said through clenched teeth. “He got pulled over for speeding and decided it would be a good idea to sass the police officer.”

Harry didn’t think it could be possible up to this point to feel annoyed, worried, and endeared by one person all at the same time and the combination left him a bit nauseous, though that could just be the pain meds they’d given him on the ambulance ride over. 

“What?” he said, voice pitched higher than usual. “They can’t bring him in just for that!” Jay let her hands drop, looking at him as if what he’d just said was the most ridiculous thing to have happened to her in the hour or so.

“Harry Edward Styles,” she said, chidingly (she was the only person who used his middle name about as often as his mother, which was just as well, considering Jay and Anne had become nearly synonymous in governing their two boys over the years, they were always together, so why waste the man power parenting them separately when they could just become more powerful together?). “Do not defend him, he’s in jail.”

Harry didn’t say anything, just stared at the ground bashfully as Jay checked the time on her phone and then her pager.

“He’s in jail and his arse might have to stay in there for the night,” she muttered, blowing out a deep breath and Harry looked back up, alarmed.

“What? Stay there, why?” he asked.

“Because I have a patient that went into early labor that I’m on stand-by for. I can’t leave and Dan’s out of town on business,” she said. “And quite honestly, if I go and get him right now, I might kill him.”

“I’ll go get him,” Harry spoke up suddenly, standing up straight, or as straight as he could while still leaning on his crutch. “Don’t worry about it, Jay, I’ll pick him up.” She just looked at him incredulously.

“What? No, no, love, you can’t do that,” she said, frowning.

“‘Course I can,” Harry said. “Unless you want to go get him and I can stay here and deliver the baby.” He smirked, grinning wider when Jay let out a laugh despite herself.

“Oh, please, you would steal that baby and run away as soon as it came out,” she teased. “You held Doris more on the day she was born than I did.” 

“All right, so picking up Louis it is,” he said and he turned to go to his car before he remembered something crucial. “I came here in an ambulance,” he said airily, staring out into the parking lot wistfully, the cogs in his mind turning slowly. 

“You sure did, cupcake,” Jay said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And even if you had a car, I can’t ask you to go and bail him out, especially after the night you’ve had. You should be at home resting.”

“I’ll call a cab,” Harry said, already reaching out for his phone and turning it on (it had to be off while he was in the hospital, another policy of theirs.) 

Jay’s resolve seemed to be wearing down, but she still looked uncertain. “No, you really need to go home and rest, babe. Louis needs to deal with his own bad decisions.”

“If I go home right now, I won’t get any rest anyway because I’ll be worrying about him,” he said. “And if we leave him in there all night, he might piss someone off and get shanked or accidentally join a gang. Then what?”

Jay laughed but Harry could tell she was still uneasy.

“But-… look, to be honest, I wasn’t even supposed to tell you,” she said and Harry glanced up, phone to his ear, confused. “He kept saying ‘Whatever you do, don’t tell Harry, he’s got a date tonight! Don’t tell Harry, I don’t want to ruin his evening!’”

Harry felt such a strong yank at his heart that it nearly threw him off balance and it was a few seconds before he realized that the person on the other end of the phone had picked up. Quickly spluttering out the hospital’s address (with some reluctant guidance from Jay,) he hung the phone up and turned back to her. 

“Well, he should know that he’s more important to me than some date,” he said, looking out onto the parking lot so he would see the cab as soon as it pulled in. “And he should also know me well enough to know that I would have no trouble messing my dates up on my own.”

Jay heaved a sigh again, shaking her head. “You’re much too good for my son, Harry Styles,” she told him in a tone that implied she wasn’t necessarily just talking about as a friend and he swallowed, thankful they hadn’t had this conversation when she’d needed to check his pulse earlier.

~ ~ ~

By the time the cab arrived, Jay had already been paged back into the hospital and she’d left Harry with a million thank-you’s and a kiss (“Yes, I’ll send you pictures of the new baby I’m about to deliver.”) He told the driver where he needed to go (ignoring the judgmental look he got from him when he told him the police station) and sat back, allowing himself to just breathe for the first time since Jay got that phone call.

He checked his phone, noticing for the first time that he had a new text from Sophia.

Hey just wanted to let you know that Liam is staying over mine tonight.

Harry raised his eyebrows, smiling a little to himself. Well, out of the three of them, he was glad to hear that at least one of their dates went well. He had been admittedly pretty glad to hear that Louis’s date had gone poorly, which made him feel really, horribly awful because his best friend had been arrested and he didn’t even want to think about what kind of person that made him, and frankly, he didn’t care much one way or the other how his own date had gone (though he could’ve lived without the broken bones and sprains and bruises.) Basically, he was glad for some genuine good news.

Ooooh, that’s fine by me ;) I’m sure I don’t have to tell a classy lady like yourself to be safe 

After a few seconds, the reply came in.

Yeah, something tells me he’s not really in the mood tonight.

Well, that doesn’t sound right at all. He was about to ask her what she meant when another text came in.A

By the way, did you know Liam can’t ride the teacups? Ever? I didn’t.

Harry cringed. Poor Liam. Poor Sophia.

Oh god, Sophia he gets dizzy when he walks in a revolving door. Did he insist on going on all the rides? Did he throw up?

Um. Yeah, he did. In my hat.

Harry barked out a surprised laugh, mortified for Liam but also knowing him too well to need to be concerned for him. 

Wow and you thought you were the one to throw up from nerves lol ;)

He sent this, then felt bad. He knew how much Liam (and Sophia) had been looking forward to this date.

Sorry about that, though, Soph. I have to kinda deal with something right now but I can definitely come get him in a little bit if you want.

Ha ha :/ 

And actually, I don’t mind, don’t worry about it. I’d rather take care of him, you know?

Harry was pleasantly surprised by this answer. He always knew he liked this girl.

Even after he yakked in your hat? Man, he must be a lot cuter to you than he is to me ;) He’ll probably be a little queasy for the rest of the night but I think the biggest casualty is probably his ego.

Well, thankfully, I know how to heal that… ;) Anyway, how about you? How was your night?

Ew :p

And well… I broke my arm and I’m headed to bail Louis out of jail. So. You know. 

He winced as soon as he sent the text, realizing that maybe he should’ve broken the news a little easier as soon as his phone lit up with an incoming call.

He spent the remainder of the ride reassuring her that everything was fine, that Louis hadn’t robbed a Tesco or anything, he’d just been acting like a tit as usual and it had reached a criminal level, and that he was okay, would just need the cast for a few weeks and he was sure that Jay was going to make Louis make up for fucking up so royally by waiting on Harry hand and foot. 

“Okay, I’m at the station now, Soph, I’ll call you back,” he said, hanging up the phone and turning around to pay the driver, who had not-so-subtly been listening in on his phone conversation.

“Good luck, lad,” the cabbie told him before driving away. “Sounds like your friend needs it.”

When he walked (or hobbled) into the station, he immediately realized he had no idea what to do. He had never bailed anyone out of jail and had never expected to need to, so he wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Luckily, an older female officer sitting at the front counter noticed him looking incredibly lost and walked up to him with a concerned smile.

“Hello, sir?” she called. “Can I help you?” She let her eyes trail up and down Harry’s form, taking in his baby blue cast and crutch. “Are you okay? Do you need to report a crime?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” he said, smiling politely and trying to ignore the way it made his temples ache a little. “I’m actually here to, um… bail someone out?”

“Oh, okay,” she said, straightening up and looking not at all like she was judging him, which he was thankful for. She must be used to this kind of thing by now. “Who are you here for?”

“Louis Tomlinson,” he said and a look of clarity immediately dawned on the woman’s face. Harry internally groaned. 

“Ah, yes,” she said, smirking. “He’s quite popular down there already.” Harry felt himself nearly start to sweat nervously.

“Oh, God, he hasn’t been shanked, has he?” he said worriedly, only somewhat aware of how stupid he sounded.

The lady’s eyebrows raised in surprise and she shook her head, “Um, no, I don’t think so,” she said, moving back behind the counter and returning with a clipboard with several pieces of paper on it. “But the other officers think he’s a hoot. He was only here fifteen minutes before he started making fart noises with his armpit.”

“Oh, my God,” Harry said, putting his head in his good hand in what may have looked like mortification but was actually an attempt to hide the fond look in his eyes and the soft smile on his lips. He took the clipboard the woman held out to him and a pen.

“Just fill these out and we can get his bail posted and him out of here,” she said, smiling, and going back to sit behind the counter while she waited for him to finish up. 

It only took Harry a few seconds to realize that he’d broken his dominant hand and his handwriting would look even worse than usual. He wrote shakily and slowly with his left hand, nearly sweating with the effort.

“Are you all right?” the woman in uniform asked when he had to stop for the third time to shake out his left hand when it started to cramp. He glanced up, flushing a little.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I just, um… I broke my hand earlier tonight and it’s my writing hand, which happens to be my right hand, my right writing hand, and so…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you should’ve said something,” she said, standing up and walking back towards him. “I can help you fill that out.”

She took the clipboard from him and Harry turned redder, feeling like a child. “Thank you,” he said, in between dictating to her what to write where. “And sorry. For all the trouble Louis’s caused.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, babe,” she said, smiling in a way that showed the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, just like Louis’s. “Your mate isn’t the first guy Johnson has brought in for minimal charges and being smarmy to an officer. We think he feels unfulfilled being a beat cop so he brings in the kids he thinks are prats, says it ‘teaches them a lesson’.” She rolled her eyes. “If you ask me, it’s just taking up cells we could be using for real criminals, but at least your friend managed to entertain us.”

After they were done with the paperwork and Harry had posted bail (only a few hundred dollars but it’ll be interesting to explain to his mother when she sees his bill,) the officer finally said that she would take him down to the holding cells so they could let Louis out and he could go home, which was the best news he’d heard in a while. It was late, so late, and Harry’s painkillers were starting to wear off and he was so tired and he just wanted to curl up with Louis on the couch and sleep for three days.

He heard Louis’s voice from down the hall as they walked past the other cells (which was a gigantic relief, he was sort of pissed at him, but even now his voice calmed Harry down like nothing else,) mostly empty but some holding scary-looking men with tattoos and people who looked closer to dead than drunk but were somehow alive. Louis’s cell was at the very end of the hall and he didn’t even have to see him to know that; a crowd had gathered outside of the bars to listen to whoever was inside tell his story.

“Tomlinson!” the lady officer called, bringing the story to a halt and all eyes to her and Harry. “Your bail’s been posted, you’re free to go.”

“Sick,” Harry heard Louis say, but his voice suddenly sounded a little nervous. “Well, ladies and gents, me mum’s here to come get me, so looks like it’s the end for me. My dying wish is that you all have a beer on me after I’m gone.” There were titters of laughter through the crowd of officers and Harry was baffled with how Louis could make everyone in the room, even if that room was the holding cell of a police station, love him, simply by existing.

“Not your mum, mate, so I’m afraid that beer will have to wait,” Harry said and there was a few seconds of silence from inside the cell before Louis rushed forward, smushing his face up against the bars, trying to get a good look at him.  
 “Harry? What are you doing here?” he said and Harry rolled his eyes, limping over in front of the cell so he could get a better look at his best friend.

He looked tired in the worst way, the kind of tired that showed even when he tried to hide it most in his stupid, coy grins and devilish eyes. His hair was messy and flat from hours of running his fingers through it anxiously, but he was in a fitted suit that was well-wrinkled but still looked stunning on him. Harry was well and truly fucked, if Louis Tomlinson was literally sitting in jail and he was still stupidly smitten with him.

“Bailing you out, stupid,” he said, smirking at him and unable to hide the wince when his head throbbed this time. 

“But where’s Mum? What about your date, I-…” he stopped suddenly, seeming to take Harry’s appearance in fully for the first time and paling, knuckles around the bars turning white with the force of his grip. “Wait, is that a cast? And are you on crutches?! For God’s sake, will somebody let me out of here?!” He actually started shaking the bars of his cell and the officers surrounding them let out another ripple of laughter before someone finally stepped forward and unlocked the door.

Louis was out of the cell and in Harry’s arms before the door was even fully opened, yanking Harry’s head down and prodding and poking at him frantically. Finally, he stopped with his hands cradling Harry’s cheeks gently. “Are you all right? What happened to you, love? Didn’t you have your date tonight?”

“I’m fine, promise,” Harry said, feeling a little warm under the gaze of all the police officers in the room. “Listen, I’ll tell you about it later, but for now, why don’t we just get you home?”

Louis reluctantly agreed which showed just how tired he really was, that he would actually give up before getting what he wanted. It was a true measure of how whipped Harry really was that he would actually rather Louis give him a hard time if it meant he was okay.

“Now I hope you’ve learned a little something about respecting officers of the law,” the officer that had hauled Louis in, Johnson, apparently, said haughtily as he handed Louis back his keys and his wallet and the few other things he’d had when he’d gotten pulled over. 

“Oh, I’ve learned oodles,” Louis seethed, and he was getting to the point of tired where he had absolutely no patience for anyone except Harry and maybe Liam anymore.

“Good,” the older man said and Harry had the feeling he was too busy patting himself on the back to notice Louis’s obvious insincerity. “The car impound will be closed this time of night, but you can pick it up first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Brilliant, thanks,” Harry said, putting his hands on Louis’s shoulders and directing him towards the door. He could feel Louis’s tight, tired muscles under his fingertips and he squeezed lightly, supportively. Louis seemed to relax a little, letting his hand swing back to brush against Harry’s thigh in reply.

On the cab ride home, Louis laid his head against Harry’s shoulder, but he didn’t sleep.

~ ~ ~

“So what ended up happening to your date?” Harry asked, handing Louis his favorite mug, filled with his favorite tea, after the boy had taken a long, hot shower and gotten himself into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His glasses were perched on his nose, Harry knew he hated how his contacts felt when he wore them when his eyes were too tired.

“Not sure and I’ll probably never find out,” Louis grumbled. “After I was in the back of the police car I had to watch as that old twat barked at him that if the car wasn’t his, he had to scram so they could impound it.”

“And he couldn’t have driven it back home for you?” Harry suggested and if Jay were here she’d probably reprimand him for taking Louis’s side again, but he just couldn’t help it.

“Nah, couldn’t ask him to do that,” Louis shrugged, taking a sip from his mug and letting his shoulders sag in a sigh. Harry limped over to the couch and handed Louis his mug, who took it wordlessly as he watched Harry try to lower himself onto the couch with minimal damage to himself or the furniture. Louis seemed to remember suddenly that his best friend was in a cast and a boot with crutches and the worry rekindled in his eyes. “But what the fuck are you asking me about my date for? What happened to you? What about your date?”

“Just a few bumps and bruises on her,” Harry said, frowning, taking the proffered mug back from Louis. “I oughta send her a bouquet or something, though. ‘Sorry for the worst date in history’ and that.”

Louis shook his head, somehow frowning with his mouth but smiling with his eyes. “I told you not to go ice-skating, you silly giraffe.” With careful maneuvering, Louis moved around Harry’s long, sore limbs until he was sitting between his legs, with his back to Harry’s chest. Harry was, as always, thankful for Louis’s familiar warmth and shape against him, but was wary of letting himself get too excited about it. Louis was his best friend and nothing but.

Except that after tonight, the spectacular finale to several month’s worth of failed dates (though, of course, none were to this degree, they’d all just ended with him not really feeling a connection between the two of them,) Harry was beginning to suspect that the universe was trying to tell him something about himself and people he tried to involve himself with romantically who weren’t Louis. Or it could just be his subconscious telling him date after date that none of these people were Louis and never would be, but he’d rather cast blame on the universe than himself. 

“I’m sorry your date didn’t work out, Lou,” Harry said quietly and it was mostly genuine. As much as he wanted Louis with every facet of his being, he wanted Louis to be happy even more. 

“It’s all right,” Louis said, shrugging. “More pissed that I got Dan’s car impounded. Mum’s gonna gut me.”

“Yeah, probably,” Harry agreed and he snickered as Louis drove an elbow back into his ribs lightly, trying not to wince as they were still sore. He didn’t want to make Louis feel worse than he already did tonight. “Don’t know why you felt the need to talk back to a police officer though.”

“H, if I’m honest, it was to entertain myself,” Louis said seriously. “That lad I brought out was so boring, I swear. He got really bitchy about me bringing him out to feed pigeons and shit. Didn’t think it would land me in jail though. If I’d known that, I would’ve just left his arse on the side of the road.”

Again, guiltily, Harry felt the pleasant swoop in his stomach at the discovery that Louis’s date had been going poorly even before he’d been arrested. 

Louis and Harry sat in silence for a few minutes, Louis glancing up to train his eyes on the cast resting over his shoulder. He reached to the coffee table for the marker he’d left there last time Liam had been naive enough to take a nap in the living room and he’d gotten a penis drawn on his forehead for his troubles. Then he took Harry’s cast gently, gentler than Harry had ever seen him handle anything, and uncapped the marker.  
 Louis scrawled out his name and Harry watched quietly, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered on his cheek, the way he poked his tongue out of his pretty pink lips in concentration. His hair was still wet on the ends and he still had bags under his eyes and he was wearing a ratty old Ramones t-shirt with holes in it and he was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.  
 When Louis was finished, he recapped the marker and threw it somewhere in the direction of the coffee table, absently playing with Harry’s fingers where they came out of the cast. 

“I’m pretty tired of going out on dates,” Louis murmured and Harry hoped he couldn’t feel the way his heart throbbed with joy with those words against his back. “It’s never the right person.”

“You’ll find him one day, Lou,” Harry said into Louis’s hair. “And when you do, he’s gonna be the luckiest man in the whole world.”

Louis snorted, smirking. “Even when I act like a tit and get meself arrested?”

“The luckiest,” Harry insisted and Louis went quiet as he carefully slid his own fingers between Harry’s, one by one, stopping after each for a few beats as if waiting for Harry to let him know if it hurt at all. 

Louis was quiet for so long that Harry thought maybe he’d fallen asleep, would be sure of it if it weren’t more the way Louis kept his arm outstretched with Harry’s, looking at the way their fingers looked entwined from every angle. 

“These hopeless crushes we have on each other aren’t going away any time soon, are they, Hazza?” Louis asked and all of Harry’s breath left him in one tidal wave. He didn’t flail, he didn’t panic (much), didn’t question how Louis could’ve known it. Didn’t even wonder too much as he replied,

“No, I don’t think they are, Lou.”

Louis didn’t talk again for a while but his fingers tightened around Harry’s. 

Harry wasn’t expecting the night to go this way. He didn’t expect to get a hairline fracture and a slight to mild concussion. He didn’t expect for Louis to get arrested and to have to bail him out of jail. The only thing that went as expected tonight was Liam throwing up after he insisted they go on the teacups. 

“So,” Louis continued. “I think going out on all these dates where all I can think about is how this person will never know as much about me as you do, and will never know how to make me laugh like you do, and who can’t have dimples and pretty green eyes and ridiculous, curly hair that looks so dumb in that stupid bun-“

“Heyyyyy,” Harry drawled, but he’s beaming. 

“-in the hopes that I find someone other than you who can make me feel like you do is a pretty big waste of time, right?”

“Um,” Harry said. He never liked to deal in absolutes and wasn’t a big fan of making other people’s decisions for them, especially in cases like this, and Louis knew that as he huffed and released Harry’s hand. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he grouched, sitting up and rearranging them until he was sitting astride Harry’s lap, a blinding grin on his face that crinkled his eyes and pinked his skin, hands gripping the front of Harry’s shirt. “Say ‘yes’, you idiot.”

“Yes, you idiot,” Harry parroted and Louis let out a tinkling bark of a laugh before yanking Harry upward into a kiss that literally made Harry dizzy (though that might’ve been the concussion, but probably not.) He immediately reached his hands up, letting the left one tangle in Louis’s hair and the injured one to wrap around Louis’s hips, steadying him. “Yes,” Harry said again when he could tear away from Louis for a second. “Yes. Yes, yes.” He said it over and over, like he was answering to a proposal, until Louis’s sealed his lips shut with his tongue. 

 

It was some time later before they separated for more than just air, that Louis just let himself lay on top of Harry, whose casted arm was running up and down Louis’s back rhythmically. They were both hazy and kiss-drunk and Harry still wasn’t sure he was awake. Maybe he was still knocked out on the ice at the rink because he’d never felt what it would be like to finally get something after wanting it for most of your life but he was sure it couldn’t actually feel this good.

“Thank you for bailing me out of jail,” Louis slurred, sounding just as deliriously happy as Harry felt. 

Normally, Harry might joke how he wouldn’t do it again, but Louis pressed a long, closed-mouth kiss against the bow of his lips and he couldn’t. “Of course, Lou.”

“I love you, you silly giraffe,” Louis whispered as he drifted off to sleep and Harry grinned.

“I love you, jailbird.”


End file.
